A Small Truce

Big thanks to my beta; Nakhash Mekashefah.

Hermione was at lunch but paying more attention to her homework than her soup and sandwich. She was so engrossed in her Arithmancy book, she didn't even spare a second glance at the Valentine hearts charmed to flap around like butterflies. She hadn't paid attention to the students who were exchanging Valentines; she hadn't even thought of Valentine's Day.

She was interrupted by Parvati Patil tapping her shoulder. "Hermione, didn't you hear me?" she asked.

"No, sorry, Parvati ...what was it?"

"Have you decided what you're wearing to the Valentine Ball?"

The Valentine Ball...she couldn't ignore it any longer. She wished she could get out of attending but, as Head Girl, she would have to be there. "I haven't really thought about it," she said to Parvati. At least, she'd tried not to think about it. It was difficult. Headmaster Dumbledore had undertaken the decoration of the Great Hall in the week preceding the Valentine Ball with gusto, and red and pink hearted-shaped butterflies filled the air. She had managed not to notice, too, the numerous students talking about who was going with whom, and the girls talking about what they would wear.

She figured she would just stand in the background; it wasn't as if she would really get a date easily, what with being married, and it wasn't as if her husband would take her out on the dance floor or walk with her on his arm and offer to get her a drink.

"What do you think Professor Snape will wear? Have you picked something good for him?" Parvati persisted.

"Um...no," she said, not wanting to get into the conversation it looked like Parvati was trying to bring her into. "Listen, I've got to go...I have Arithmancy in fifteen minutes, and I wanted to ask Professor Vector about something. See you later." Hermione closed her book, packing it away in her bag, grabbed a sandwich, and left the Great Hall.

She did feel freer with Draco Malfoy gone. Severus had informed her a few days after the attack that he didn't think she would be in danger any longer, and there was no need to have himself or Harry walk with her everywhere. It was a relief to have a respite to herself. Her hopes that Severus had somehow decided to be nice to her were dashed the week after her concussion. Once more, they had met on Saturday in the living room to adhere to the requirements of the coitus clause. It had started well, and she was ready for something enjoyable. However, when he came after two strokes, giving her a challenging glare, she had gone to her room. She took care of her unfulfilled arousal alone in the shower, afterwards.

Hermione arrived in the Arithmancy classroom and took a seat, then retrieved her book and pulled her assignment out, placing it on her desk. One more read-through of her assignment - and finishing her sandwich - occupied her time before the class began.

As usual, Hermione found Arithmancy to be stimulating and challenging and was able to forget about her troubles amidst the calculations and advanced equations. The advanced wards they were studying were intriguing.

Ancient Runes followed Arithmancy in Hermione's timetable, another fascinating subject. By three, her classes were finished. She thought of going to the library to revise, but she did that nearly every day anyway, and now that she could walk the corridors of Hogwarts alone again, she found herself wanting to do something else for herself with her time. So she quickly went to the dungeons, entered her room and tossed her book bag on her desk, and changed clothes, donning long underwear before her jeans, turtleneck and jumper. She pulled her heavy wool cloak on, followed by her gloves, finally, and exited, making her way up the stairs and outside onto the Hogwarts grounds for a stroll.

The sun was shining for a change, though the early February air was cold; snow still covered the grounds. Hermione smiled widely as she walked past Hagrid's hut, feeling a surge of cheerfulness at her freedom in Malfoy's absence. The trial would be later that month, and she was concerned that he wouldn't get a harsh sentence, but at least he was gone from Hogwarts and, for the time being, he was in custody.

The evergreens in the Forbidden Forest were a deep green, contrasting with the bare white and brown of the branches of the deciduous trees. She walked among the trees, thinking about the dangers lurking deeper in the forest: Aragog and her brood, the centaurs, fortunately Grawp was gone. Hermione shook her head, thinking of the giant and how Hagrid had hoped to tame him and teach him manners. There is only so much in someone's nature that can be trained out.

Here, along the outskirts of the Forest, she would be safe. It was still off-limits, but she had faced danger before and could take care of herself. In a surge of energy, she decided to run...she hadn't just run for fun in ages; and so she did, taking off at a near-sprint through the trees. The snow and twigs, fallen from trees, crunched under her boots; birds and squirrels flew and skittered away as she recklessly crashed through the woods, slowing to a jog, then a walk after a while.

Much later, as the sky grew dark and the first stars appeared, she headed back to Hogwarts feeling pleasantly tired from her excursion.

*****

Severus Snape searched through his filing cabinet when he returned from dinner in the Great Hall, pulling out Hermione's old student files. His inquiry was scheduled for the day after Draco Malfoy's trial. He was going to prepare early, and Headmaster Dumbledore had agreed to go over Hermione's old tests and essays to grade them independently and to prove that he wasn't showing her favouritism. Hermione's grade average had neither improved nor declined since their marriage, so the accusations should hold no water. It was still inconvenient that he should have to defend himself.

Just as he was placing the files together in a case, he heard a knock...he paused, but realised it was on Hermione's outer door, so he ignored it. Another knock came after a few moments; he scowled in annoyance, but continued with what he was doing. When the knock then moved to the main entrance of his quarters, he rose with no small aggravation and opened the door.

"Miss Weasley, you knocked a moment ago on Hermione's door. If she does not answer that door, do not come to this door to bother me," he snapped.

"S-sorry, sir...it's just...I can't find her," the youngest Weasley stammered.

"She isn't here. I suggest you check the library and the Gryffindor common room. If she isn't there, she's likely decided to find some place else to revise. Good evening," he finished with finality and closed the door. She hadn't been at dinner either, he mused. However, Draco was gone, and his wand would give him the alarm if she were in any sort of danger, and so he decided she had simply found someplace else to be. Still, he wanted to be sure. He withdrew his wand and focused it on the spell, which was on Hermione's amulet, stretching a quiet awareness to it. It would send him an alarm if she was in danger, but it could also be used at other times to sense her. Closing his eyes as he focused on the amulet, he focused on her.

Exhilaration...Happiness...Satisfaction.

She was safe if she was feeling that...so he let the spell drop, now curious about what she was doing. At least she wasn't off pouting somewhere; she'd been doing all too much of that lately. He wondered if she was revising...no, it had neither felt like the focus and determination of revising nor boredom. But perhaps she would be in a mood that he could make some progress with her, do something with her differently to hopefully bring about a conclusion of their all too tiring argument.

He finished putting aside the files he needed, and then exited his quarters to go check on his Slytherins. Several moments of spying revealed all was well in the Slytherin common room, and so he returned to his quarters, selected a book, and began to read.

It was half an hour later that another knock sounded on his door. He placed the book aside, musing that his quarters had seen more activity and visitors in the last several months than they had in the several years before that. He was surprised to find the Gryffindor Head of House there.

"Minerva," he intoned, "what brings you here?"

"Have you seen Miss Gra – Madam Snape?"

"No, not since this morning. Why?"

"I have been looking for her and have had a few students looking for her. I needed to find her and discuss preparations for the Valentine's Day Ball. Miss Weasley informed me that she wasn't here, and I grew concerned, what with everything that has happened."

"I am sure that wherever she is, she is fine. But, I will inform her when I next see her that she is needed, Minerva."

"Thank you, Severus. Good evening," she said, turning to leave. "There you are!" she said, raising her voice as she turned from the door. Snape opened the door more fully and stepped into the corridor. His wife, looking rather rumpled, was walking towards them.

"Oh...hello, Professor McGonagall," she said.

"Where have you been? I've been looking for you. As Head Girl you can't just disappear, I needed to talk with you about the Valentine's Ball, and you were nowhere around."

"Sorry, Professor...I didn't realise anyone would need me this evening," Hermione said, looking sorry.

"Well, it's too late tonight, but tomorrow I need you to go meet with the Prefects and organise arrangements for the Valentine's Ball."

"Yes, Professor. I'll do that...I'm sorry I wasn't available."

"Very well, good evening to you both," McGonagall said with a nod to each of them and walked away. Severus stepped back inside, holding the door open for Hermione.

"When your friend Miss Weasley came by, I too grew concerned," he said softly as she entered.

"I was fine...just out for a walk."

Severus nodded but noticed, as she passed, that she had several bits of twigs and leaves in her hair. His gaze narrowed, sharpening on one particular sprig of leaves. "You've been in the Forbidden Forest," he said accusingly. "You've brought the evidence with you in your hair. What do you think you're doing roaming the Forest? Now that Malfoy isn't around to try and hurt you, you think to put yourself in danger?"

Hermione spun around to face him and backed away a step at the hard anger on his face. "No," she answered. "I was just on the edges. I've been there dozens of times for various reasons; I didn't go deep into the Forest."

"I should take points from Gryffindor for this; I could, you know."

"What happened to being my husband while we're in here?" she retorted, eyes narrowed and fists clenched at her sides.

Severus opened his mouth to retort but shut it again quickly. Taking house points from her now, even though he should, wouldn't help at all in bringing her around. Still, he had to do something. "Hermione, I would hate to think I married you for your protection just to have you run off and intentionally get yourself killed."

"Really? Would you miss me or would you just miss my body?" she spat, then turned quickly and strode to her room, closing the door firmly. Severus clenched his fists rhythmically in anger, taking deep breaths as he fought the urge to blast her door down and...and do what? Yell at her for being an immature girl not thinking about the danger she was in? Demand she always check in with him and inform him of her location? No...Malfoy was gone now, and when he was her age he'd spent time in the Dark Forest, too. He knew well enough that it was reasonably safe for someone who was alert and capable of defending themselves. Still, it was against the rules for all students.

*****

Hermione breathed heavily after she closed the door to her room, angry that he would try to take house points from her. It was confusing...he was her professor still, but he was her husband, and then he wanted to be her Master to top it all off. Shaking her head, she began undressing, catching a strong whiff of sweat as she shed the layers of clothing. Definitely time for a bath. The run and hike through the edges of the Forbidden Forest and around the lake had been exhilarating, she'd felt so much better afterwards, and then to have to return to find Professor McGonagall upset at not finding her, and Severus being a prat had soured her good mood.

Once in the bathroom, she closed the door, which was slightly open from Severus's room, and started the water running while she gathered her toiletries from her cabinet. A shower would be faster, but she wanted a long soak...and besides, taking up the bathroom with a nice long soak would serve him right. She took another moment, before getting into the water, to cast a ward on the door. It wouldn't stop him if he really wanted in, but it would certainly let him know she wanted to be left alone.

They didn't see each other or speak again until that Friday. Hermione kept busy with the preparations for the Valentine's Ball. Thinking about organising the decoration committee, her exams, preparation for NEWT's, and helping her friends with their homework kept her mind off her problems. She also heard from four new Muggle-born women who'd been forced to marry and who wanted to come to her support group meetings. She owled them the time of the next meeting, which was the coming Sunday, and sent an owl to Treva, as well.

She went to see Dumbledore on Wednesday to ask about progress with the investigations on the ones who hadn't been able to respond. He'd given her a smile and told her not to worry about it, that she was doing more than her part already. She did, however, catch the sad look in his eyes, which didn't match his false smile and assurances. It was so wrong that this tragedy continued to strike out against Muggle-born women. Fortunately, Dumbledore did have some good news for her. There was a faction of pure-bloods opposed to the marriage law who'd decided to join forces with the Order for the purpose of repealing the law. They brought with them: a team of solicitors, funding, and a number of well-placed names.

The Ministry of Magic had to set up a special new department just to deal with the flood of Howlers they were now getting from everywhere. The fliers had been taken to heart, and the people were rising up to fight the injustice. The spirit of some in the support group had risen, as well. It had taken a few meetings, but they had overcome the awkwardness of the first one quickly, and everyone exchanged information about their methods of coping with, or even getting around, the Ministry laws. A few of the solutions found by some of the other women were beginning to sound more and more appealing to Hermione. She wondered about bringing the subject up with Severus, but she wasn't really willing to just give up and go for completely separate lives just yet...he still intrigued her.

Hermione avoided the other girls who were busy talking about what they would wear to the Valentine's Ball, how they would do their hair, and who they were going with. It was fast becoming the most miserable Valentine's she'd ever experienced, and it hadn't even arrived. Even the previous Valentine's celebration during her sixth year hadn't been so bad. Headmaster Dumbledore had insisted on carrying on with a celebration even amidst higher Death Eater activity. She'd gone with Harry, mostly because he was so fraught with worry over his upcoming role against Voldemort that he hadn't asked anyone to go...and no one had asked her. In the end, she had told him they would be going together.

But not this year. No, she supposed she might be able to leave early and revise her notes if she could count on the Prefects to remain behind and close down the festivities. Maybe no one would notice she was attending alone.

Friday, February the fourteenth, arrived finally. After lunch, Hermione set to organising the Prefects on the committee to setting up the decorations and moving the tables aside, transfiguring them into a series of smaller round tables to sit in the corners of the Great Hall, leaving a large, oval space open.

In just under two hours, the Great Hall was transformed into a romantic setting: candles floating in heart patterns over the small tables, streamers of silver and pink and red weaving through the air, and dozens of butterflies charmed from crepe paper fluttering about.

"Ahh, yes, this is lovely," came a voice from the entrance of the Great Hall. Hermione turned and saw Headmaster Dumbledore entering, gazing about with a smile on his face. "Such a romantic setting. Well done, thank you all for setting this up," he said to the Prefects. "Now, I'm sure you will all want to go get ready for the ball." The Prefects smiled, murmuring their thanks as they left the Great Hall. Hermione smiled at him, then remembered the fact that she'd rather not bother going and began to leave.

"Wait," he said softly to her as she walked past him.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, turning her attention respectfully to the Headmaster.

"Is something wrong, Hermione? You seem...distracted."

"I'm fine, sir," she said, though not believably.

"Hermione, I know this would normally be a time you would be hoping to have a date with a young man who might be a romantic prospect...but perhaps Severus will surprise you? I know it hasn't been long, and I know Severus can be distant and even difficult. Have the two of you been having troubles?"

Hermione wasn't sure what to say. Yes, Headmaster...I don't really like the idea he seems to have that I'm supposed to get down on my knees and take his orders, even if I did agree to it; and I don't really like how he's bent on running my life, telling me how to revise, and how he might take points from my house if he catches me at something I perhaps shouldn't be doing; and I don't like the fact that he's still practically a stranger to me who seems to think that love is overrated; and that he's scary and violent when he's angry and would have killed someone in front of me if I hadn't stopped him; and how he seems to think I'm some kind of possession. No, none of that really seemed like something she could say aloud. Instead, she said: "Well, we're still just getting to know each other...and, well, have had a few differences of opinion."

"All married couples have differences of opinion. I do understand that in your case there is added strain because he is your professor as well as your husband, and the fact that marriage wasn't something either of you was planning on anytime soon." He paused a moment, regarding Hermione carefully. "Is there anything you would like to talk to me...or perhaps Professor McGonagall about? We've both known Severus a long time and won't judge either of you unfairly, either."

"Thanks...but no. It'll be fine, Headmaster," she said, giving him a wan smile and then leaving the Great Hall.

Once back in her room, she looked into her wardrobe. She hadn't even thought of what to wear. What was the point? Who was she hoping to impress? She decided on the dress robes she'd worn the previous year. They would still fit.

She laid the dress robes out on her bed, then went to the bathroom to shower. Letting the hot water soothe her tense muscles as she scrubbed herself and then shaved, she thought about how the ball would go. She knew Severus would be at the ball, or patrolling the gardens as he always was. She had no delusions he would ask her to dance; he'd made it very clear that he wasn't a romantic. She just hoped that she wouldn't get pitying looks from her friends - that would only make it worse.

Hermione jumped as she heard the bathroom door open. She was rinsing her hair and hoped he would just go away. She frowned when she saw him move in front of the shower door and begin removing his clothes. "I'll be out in a little bit, if you'd just wait a minute," she said.

"Hermione, how long are we going to keep this up?" he asked, sounding slightly exasperated.

"I'll be out of your way in just a minute," she said, ignoring his question. A few seconds later the shower door opened and he stepped inside. "Fine then, don't wait," she said peevishly and started to move around him to exit the shower, but he reached out, grabbing her firmly about the waist.

"Don't go, Hermione," he said softly, whispering just behind her ear.

"Will you take house points if I do?" she asked.

"Don't be ridiculous," he murmured. "I'm growing very tired of this attitude. Stop avoiding me...we can enter the ball together, and when we get back, let us talk tonight; sort this out once and for all."

Hermione gritted her teeth, closing her eyes and thinking about what he'd said. "You really want to talk about it?" she finally asked. "I mean, really...not just demand what you want?"

"Yes. I don't think you like how things have been lately either, Hermione. We're stuck together; we should make of it what we can."

"A few of the other girls in the support group have made different arrangements," Hermione said, shifting slightly against his arm.

"Such as?"

"Living separately...they meet once a week to do what they have to for the law, but the rest of the time they don't live together. Maybe that would be better for us? Once the marriage law is rescinded they won't keep track of the legal requirements anymore--"

Severus spun her around, looking her firmly in the eyes, one hand loosely grasping the wet hair at the back of her head. "No!" he exclaimed. "You realise the damned Ministry used permanent binding spells on us? That we will still be bound to each other...that we can never take another lover...ever? Do you really want to live a celibate life?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed together as he waited for her answer.

"What I want hasn't mattered since they passed the law," Hermione said quietly, looking away from him. She pulled away, turned and exited to her room.

*****

Severus had let her go at her quiet pronouncement, wondering if perhaps she had finally revealed the root of the problem. What she wanted...what did she want? None of this was what either of them wanted, but he had tried to make it bearable enough for both of them, he thought. Severus washed himself quickly, then dried, donned his dress robes, and went to her door, knocking softly.

He opened the door when he heard no answer and found her seated on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, dressed only in her underwear, looking down at her dress robes laid on the bed.

"Hermione, we should be leaving soon," he said.

"I'm not going," she replied, not looking at him. She wrapped her arms more tightly about her knees.

"I see. And what do you hope to accomplish by this sulking?" he asked. "You're being childish."

"I don't care. Maybe I want to be childish. At least it's something I can do if I want to," she replied hollowly.

Severus crossed the room and sat on the bed beside her. "Hermione...we all do things we don't want to do in life. We all have to live with choices made not only by ourselves, but by others that are out of our control. Railing against the inevitable will gain you nothing...I learned that well enough, long ago." He watched her as she turned her head away from him and noted the way her shoulders stiffened, her entire back seemed taut. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want you to be unhappy," he said truthfully.

"No, of course you don't. That's tedious for you!" she nearly shouted, her voice cracking at the end. "Leave me alone," she said in a near whisper, trying to pull away from his touch. She stifled a sob quickly.

Severus pulled his hand away and sat for several long moments, listening to the careful, forced evenness of her breath, watching the muscles in her back ripple as she held herself stiffly. She looked so small, suddenly. She'd never seemed so small before, looking nearly helpless. She reminded him of another image...one from long ago that he didn't want to think about. She looked...weak.

"I wonder...was I mistaken?" he asked quietly as he drew himself up, narrowing his eyes at her form. "I'd thought...I thought you were stronger than that." His voice held a note of accusation.

Hermione turned to him, giving him an incredulous look; her angry eyes alight with an inner fire, even through the unshed tears. "Mistaken in thinking I was strong?" she repeated. Her nostrils flared and she turned quickly away from him. "How can you say that?"

Severus stood stiffly, turning his back on her before he spoke. "Until recently I thought you were handling everything quite well. Lately, however...you've made me wonder if I overestimated your capabilities. In fact, perhaps when I helped you with your Arithmancy calculations, I misled you into a path you weren't capable of handling because of that overestimation. If that is the case, then I...apologise for not seeing that at the time." He walked quickly for her door once he'd finished speaking, not wanting to remain with her.

Once outside her doors he stood for several moments, fists clenching, his breathing turning heavy. For the first time since the marriage law passed, he felt a roiling discomfort of doubt creep into his stomach followed by a surge of anger. This was all Albus Dumbledore's doing...that man, convincing him to submit a marriage petition for a girl who now seemed to be all false bravado.

Why hadn't he seen it?

Had he been so easily fooled by her determination to move to the top of her class? By her open strength in the face of danger, by her commitment to assisting the Order in what capacity Dumbledore had allowed? And even before that, by her plans which were the driving force behind the student club: Dumbledore's Army. And even when she'd come to him, she had been understandably disquieted...but he thought she had gotten over that soon enough, that she had chosen to proceed in the most logical way and thought she would be fine once the initial strain of adjustment had passed.

He realised he had been overlooking a great many things. Over the years he had grown accustomed to simply doing as he had to do. His time as a spy, moving constantly between Voldemort and Dumbledore, constantly playing the line of how much truth to give to make the side of the light win had hardened him, tempered him into the man he was. And even before that, his father had hardened him to many things...though still he chose not to dwell on his father, no, that sort of thing was for people who wore their hearts on their sleeves and wallowed in misery.

Hermione didn't have the benefit of that sort of experience...but then, maybe not everyone would see his life as beneficial experience, he thought, as he exited his quarters and started down the corridors of the dungeons. And now...now he was stuck with a little girl who liked to play pretend as the brave Gryffindor. Stuck...for the rest of his life to a girl who was stuck with him, all because he'd thought she was more than she actually was. Her life had been too easy, her parents lenient, and even at school she'd been held to a different standard, as if she were above her peers. And so, in some ways she had been weakened even whilst seeming to be stronger than her peers. The brief time in which she had turned around and seemed to adjust to being his wife had misled him...she'd seemed happy, and he had started to think she would be a good wife for him.

He'd been blind.

He reached the Great Hall and swept about the edges of the dance floor, scowling at the students who stood aside as he passed. He paused at the refreshment table and poured himself a glass of punch, testing it to be sure none of the students had placed any alcoholic beverages within.

Looking around the Great Hall, he spotted Dumbledore, who was also watching him curiously, obviously wondering where Hermione was. He turned away and strolled around some more, dampening moods with a dark gaze wherever he could. He couldn't easily avoid the Headmaster making his way towards him, and to do so would be silly, so he remained where he was, waiting for the inevitable questioning. He didn't have to wait long.

"One might wonder, Severus, where you wife is?" Dumbledore said. While he was smiling, he also observed Snape closely.

"She didn't wish to attend, Headmaster," Severus answered lowly, not wanting nearby students to overhear.

"She didn't? Hmmm...you know, I find a gift of roses often makes women feel better, especially on Valentine's Day. Perhaps some chocolates? Or chocolate roses?"

"Headmaster, I know you don't mean to sound daft, but please, don't insult either of us by suggesting roses would solve any problems we may have," he said through clenched teeth, and then turned and made his way to the teachers' exit and outside. Normally he wouldn't have been so short-tempered with the man, but now his forward guise of senility seemed all too genuine...that he could have ever thought Hermione could be an appropriate wife to him, or that he could be an appropriate husband for her. She should have picked Shacklebolt. At least then, he wouldn't be stuck with a weak, snivelling little girl.

He missed the fact that Hermione had entered the Great Hall only seconds before he exited. Instead, he turned to the rose garden, withdrew his wand, and began blasting the newly blooming roses. Professor Sprout liked her roses, and kept them enchanted to bloom year round.

*****

Hermione entered the Great Hall with her head held high. She'd used a charm to cover the evidence that she'd been crying and had quickly dressed after Severus had left her room. She was going to confront him, but he had already left, and so she went ahead to the ball.

How could he say he thought she was stronger?

Stronger than what? And what did his opinion of her strength or weakness have to do with anything?

Then, she'd begun sorting through what he'd said about the Arithmancy calculations. "...you've made me wonder if I had overestimated your capabilities. In fact, perhaps when I helped you with your Arithmancy calculations, I misled you into a path you weren't capable of handling because of that overestimation." What could he have done to mislead her by overestimating her?

On her way up to the Great Hall, the thought had hit her that maybe he did hold some level of respect for her. He certainly had an odd way of showing it if that was the case.

Looking around the Great Hall, she didn't see him. Many couples were dancing to music, while others sat at the tables with punch and small plates of cake or appetisers. She went to the left, walking around the edges of the Hall. A few of the sixth and seventh years cast glances in her direction, but she ignored the looks and whispers, determined to not let it bother her. She paused in her circuit and leaned against the wall, looking out over the dancers.

"Good evening, Madam Snape," a voice said. She startled slightly and looked for the source of the voice.

"Oh, hello Professor Dumbledore," she said. "Good evening to you, as well."

"I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here. Severus seemed to be under the impression you weren't coming."

"I wasn't feeling well for a while, but I'm fine now," she answered.

"If you're looking for Severus, I believe you'll find him in the gardens," Dumbledore said, smiling, and then turned and walked away.

Hermione remained in the Great Hall for a while after that. She saw Harry and Ginny dancing together, and Ron was dancing with Parvati Patil. Several of the Slytherin girls were standing together and whispering, casting her odd glances and giggling. She decided that was enough of that, and she too left the Great Hall. If he really wanted to talk, finally, she had some things to say to him. And, now that she knew there was a possibility he wouldn't like, she had a place from which to negotiate. Having to negotiate with her husband wasn't ideal by any means, but she knew it was simply the reality of her situation. She might not have had a choice in marrying him, but she did have a choice in how she proceeded with him.

*****

It didn't take long to find him...she followed the trail of blasted roses until she came upon him, watching as he muttered curses at the shredded petals.

"Don't you think Professor Sprout will be upset at finding her plants ruined?" Hermione asked as she walked up behind him.

Severus turned to face her, his face a stony mask. "Finally decide to quit sulking?" he asked.

"You said you wanted to talk, and since you obviously don't want to stay for the ball, let's talk," Hermione challenged, ignoring his question. "Yes, I've had enough of how things have been, but there are certain things I won't compromise on anymore, either." She stopped walking towards him and stood about six feet away, crossing her arms. "The truth is, I think I could stand to have a celibate life, and that's what we'll have after the marriage law is rescinded if you don't want to compromise. Once the restrictions on the Muggle-born women are gone, there will be no reason for me to need you."

"Well then, I suppose I shouldn't expect a Gryffindor to live up to her promises. It's all bravado masquerading as courage with you lot," he said venomously. "Running blindly into something and then realising it's not quite what you thought it would be seems to be adequate justification to go back on your word. Why do you think I was so explicit about what life would be like with me, Hermione? I wanted you to understand, just so you wouldn't end up turning around and running away. Brave Gryffindor, indeed," he mocked, then turned away and spat on the ground. He raised his wand and fired another hex at a rose, blasting it into a cloud of shredded petals.

"And what did you expect? What other choice did I have? I didn't have any choice, Severus. None at all. It was marry you, or marry Shacklebolt, or marry Lucius Malfoy. What the hell kind of a choice is that?"

"It was three choices, Hermione. Three possibilities, which is more than what some people get in their lives. Even if none of your choices were particularly pleasant, you made your choice, and now you want to change what went along with the choice. You had more choice in the matter than I did once the proposal was submitted, and I'm just as trapped as you are now." He turned back to the rose bush, pointing his wand. Instead of blasting another rose, he used his wand to mutter a cutting spell. He held the rose on a long stem, looking at it oddly. Then, he turned and held it out to her. "The Headmaster seems to believe roses would make it all better," he said. "Since you seem to take stock in what the Headmaster suggests, why don't you take it?"

Hermione reached out automatically, even as she asked: "Why would you bother to give me a rose?" As she grasped the stem, she gasped and pulled her hand away. Severus reached out quickly, grabbed her hand, and turned it over, stepping closer to her.

"A thorn pricked you, I see," he said, looking down at the dark bead of blood welling up on the pad of her ring finger. "I'm sure you think it ironically fitting." His eyes drifted from her hand up to her eyes. "Such it is with roses. Would a rose without the thorns be as desirable?"

Hermione watched, strangely transfixed as he drew her hand upwards and then took the pad of her finger gently between his lips, suckling the blood from her finger. She shivered involuntarily at the sensation and the sight of a small droplet of her blood resting on his lower lip when he lowered her hand, still holding it.

"At least with a rose you know to expect thorns. It's no surprise when you find yourself pricked by one."

He finished his statement by turning and walking past her, not even looking at her.

Hermione watched him walk away with a sinking feeling, but then she tossed back her shoulders as she gathered her resolve. She wasn't about to let him turn it all around on her. Decision made, she went after him.

"Severus!" she called as he went into one of the greenhouses. He didn't stop right away; instead, he continued through the greenhouse before stopping and turning to face her, a moment before he turned his attention to a large pot of a flowering plant. Hermione caught up to him. "Now who's the one running off?" she asked, perturbed.

"This particular plant is a favourite of Professor Sprout's," Snape said.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Humour me. What do you think of it?"

Puzzled, Hermione turned to look at the plant. It was about four feet high, with tough-looking stalks as big around as her wrists. They hadn't ever studied that plant in Herbology, and she wondered why it was here. An array of flowers grew from it in several colours. "Well...it's a flowering shrub?" she said, shrugging. "What's your point?"

"Those branches look quite strong, don't they?" he mused, studying the shrub.

"Yes...I suppose they do," Hermione agreed.

Severus reached out and, with one finger, stroked the nearest stalk. Hermione's eyes widened as she watched a trail appear in the stalk where he'd touched it. Quickly, the branch began dissolving and then toppled over, all the flowers above the point he'd touched wilting. "Appearances can be deceiving," Snape stated, turning to look at her. "Deception is quite...disappointing." He looked down at his pointer finger with distaste and smeared the slimy remains of the dissolved branch onto the moss growing in the pot. "My point, if you haven't discerned it yet, is that it is better to know ahead of time what awaits you, better to be aware of the dangers, and weaknesses, of another before you are bound to them, especially in marriage, and especially one such as ours. We had an understanding, yet you saw fit to go against it. I'm left with as little choice as you are here." As he spoke, he stepped closer to Hermione until he stood only inches away.

"I'm not a coward, and I'm not weak," Hermione said firmly. "This isn't about me being weak, because I'm not weak! This is about me not having any choices! Why can't you get that?"

"And why can't you understand that what I expect isn't so much to ask? Was I not clear? I had very few demands of you, yet you cannot find it in yourself to even do as you agreed to do. End this now," he whispered fiercely, grabbing her by the shoulders firmly. "Come with me; return to my bed. I ask only for you to fulfil your promises."

Hermione faced him, not blinking under his hard gaze. This was it...if he wouldn't compromise now, she decided that she would simply leave. All the fighting, all the silence and struggling really came down to only one thing. "I will, but not without a compromise."

"I've already told you what I'd be willing to compromise on."

"Yes, you have. But I want one more. I just want to have a choice. I want to be able to say 'no' when I want to. I'll do what you want, but you need to respect that sometimes I need to have a choice."

They stared at one another, unblinking, for several very long moments. Hermione decided not to speak any more. It was his turn, and she was going to wait. His hands still gripped her shoulders firmly, and she could feel the occasional pulsing of his fingers clenching. If he denied that condition, she would leave. They could fulfil the requirements of the law without living together, and when the law was repealed she would live alone.

Perhaps he would be ready to compromise one day, if not today.

She could see his jaw muscles pulsing, his eyes glinting...whether with anger or something else, she wasn't sure. But she waited.

He wasn't answering.

Finally, he took in a deep breath and released her shoulders. He turned away slightly, taking several steps and crossing his arms, his jaw still clenching as he glared fiercely into the distance through the hazy glass panels of the greenhouse. The silence stretched on. Somewhere, a cricket started chirping in the greenhouse, but they both ignored it. Hermione waited, watching in silence for his answer.

"And if I grant you that, do you see yourself saying 'no' often?" he finally asked.

Hermione felt a flood of relief. He was considering it. "No, all I'm asking for is a choice...I just want that option."

She waited again, this time longer. The cricket continued to chirp and then fell silent. Finally, he turned to look at her again. She felt her stomach flutter at his intense gaze. "Would you continue to take my instruction and direction?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus. As I said, I only want the option, even if I don't exercise that option often." Her heart was pounding and her palms were growing sweaty despite the cool air.

"And if I told you that if you return to my bed tonight," he began stepping back close to her, voice low, "I would want to tie you...stretch you between the bedposts...and punish your nipples until they would be sore for days, before I take you in every way I can, would you say no to that?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

Hermione's heart pounded harder as she met his gaze. He certainly had a lot of questions about when she would say no. But, she took that as a good sign, he was seriously considering it. She answered firmly, "Right now, that sounds like a very good idea, so I wouldn't say no." She gave him a smile, hoping to lighten the mood. It really wasn't the bondage or his sadistic tendencies she had a problem with...she'd even enjoyed that.

Severus looked thoughtful a moment. "So, if you had the option to say no and could speak freely when in my bed, you would return and end this silliness?"

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"You do understand this wouldn't mean I would change or suddenly become gentle with you, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And I want no more misunderstandings...no more accusations, if I grant you this."

Hermione nodded her assent. If he could compromise on this one thing, then she knew he could be reasonable. If she had enough power to say no, she felt that she wouldn't be so worried over the little things. The safeword, contract, and so forth, didn't really matter that much, if she could just say no when she wanted to.

Severus exhaled sharply, staring at a point past Hermione for another few moments, but this time Hermione thought she could see a softening of his features...his jaw wasn't clenching anymore. His eyes turned to meet hers and he said, "Very well, then. I grant you that."

"Thank you," Hermione said softly, exhaling as she realised she'd been holding her breath.

"Now," he said, reaching out and lifting her chin with a finger, "you said what I suggested I might do sounds like a good idea, did you not?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, her stomach flipping with a slight nervous tingle.

"Prove it," he challenged. Go prepare yourself, and I expect to find you in my bed when I return to our quarters."

Hermione nodded once, then turned to leave the greenhouse. Her legs felt weak as she walked, both with relief and nervousness. She was worried...had she asked for too little? Would this make any difference? A small, spiteful voice wondered if she should test this new condition when they met again in his bed, see if he would stop. But no, she decided that would just be petty. He'd compromised; he'd given her back the choice and freedom she'd wanted. Now that he had, she was looking forward to seeing him. She was relieved she didn't have to leave.

*****

Severus watched her walk away. He wasn't sure what he would find when he returned to their quarters, to his bedroom. What if she wasn't there? He wasn't sure that he would trust her again if she wasn't. He already had a difficult time trusting her, but he'd decided to take a chance. Still, he wasn't sure if he'd made the right decision in compromising with her. Hermione seemed to be under the impression she wasn't asking for much. Perhaps it didn't seem like much to her, but it had been for him.

Would he find himself refused now? It had been hard enough to bring another person into his life...Hermione had already shared more time with him than just about any other woman. Not only his time - but his home, his privacy. He had always guarded his privacy well. In his home he was in charge, no one told him what to do; no one could send him on an errand, demand his service. His former lovers had always been clear that he would not accept refusal in his home, his bed. If they had a problem with that fact, they simply didn't return. That was why he made it so clear before they married what he would expect.

And then, Hermione had revealed that option...that she might leave. The problem was, he would never be able to take another lover. If she were simply a lover, he didn't think he would have conceded that point. He felt angry still, as if he'd been manipulated into giving her that option, and now he would be at the mercy of her whims. He'd never been refused in his own home since reaching adulthood. Never. It was with a great deal of trepidation that he began the walk from the greenhouse. Scenarios played in his head...what if he got down there and she told him no?

He wasn't sure what he would do if that happened. He could perhaps see some other time, maybe if she wasn't feeling well or had had a bad day, where she might say no...that seemed to be what she was getting at. But, if she said no tonight...that would be a slap in the face. He decided if that happened, he wouldn't leave it up to her to leave or not...no, she would find herself let go and he would just deal with being alone. His hand would serve him well enough.

He barely noticed the noise coming from the Great Hall as he passed it on his way to the dungeons. And, once in the corridors of the dungeons, it was overwhelmingly quiet. And then, he reached his door. The wards were taken down and he entered. He didn't go immediately to his room...instead, he paused at the liquor cabinet, pulled out a bottle of brandy and poured himself some in a tumbler. His nerves steadied as he sipped it, and then tossed down the last bit. The bedroom door looked nearly ominous to him. He shook his head, realising he was being silly. It was simple, he would find Hermione behind that door, ready and waiting for him, or he wouldn't.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled off his outer robe, laid it on the back of the couch, and then headed to the bedroom.

*****

Hermione waited, stomach quavering in anticipation as she knelt in the middle of the bed. She wasn't sure how much time he would take to get to her, and she wondered if she'd prepared fully enough. The 'Fundamundic' charm had been employed, just in case, but she hadn't shaved more than her legs and underarms. She wasn't sure why she was nervous. But, it had been more than six weeks since she'd shared a bed with him.

She still wondered how well he would hold to what he'd agreed. What if he didn't stop when she told him 'no' some time? This wasn't the time to test it. No, now was the time to show him that she appreciated being given the choice finally, that he could see that she had free will. It wouldn't be fair to tell him no out of spite.

She heard the door open and heard his boot steps in the living room. He was taking a while, and she wondered if it was just to make her nervous. Was he just playing with her now?

Finally, he walked through the threshold of the bedroom door; his eyes locked with hers, and she thought she saw a faint smile on his lips before his face hardened and he walked to the edge of the bed.

"You may undress me now," he said, echoing the words spoken more than three months previously on their wedding night. Hermione gave him a smile and moved to the edge of the bed, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. His robe was already gone. She moved slowly, watching his eyes as he watched hers. She ran her fingers over his skin when she pushed his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. She expected to get off the bed to remove his boots, but he toed them off himself. She moved to his trousers and began unbuttoning them. His erection was quite prominent and sprang free as she pushed his trousers down his thighs.

She expected him to tell her something else or to fetch some ropes or clamps, perhaps the paddle. Instead, he grasped her by her hair and pulled her in for a fierce kiss. "Will you deny me now?" he whispered in her ear.

"No, I won't," she answered. Severus drew back, one corner of his mouth pulled up slightly, before he kissed her again, climbing onto the bed and pushing her back at the same time. His mouth was hot, his tongue dominant, his hands fierce as they roamed her body. Hermione gasped when he moved down her body, taking a nipple between his lips and sucking intensely. She moaned as his hand moved between her legs, and she met his eyes when his head came up, his eyes glinting at her when he found her wet. He thrust two fingers into her, curling them against the sensitive spot, causing Hermione to arch against him and grasp his shoulders.

He shifted and sheathed himself inside her an instant later, his hands grasping her shoulders and pulling her firmly as he thrust into her; his mouth found hers again, and Hermione lost herself to the feeling of his body pulsing in hers, his lips and tongue against hers. There was something primal about the way he took her, and she felt an orgasm coming...but unlike the last six weeks, he didn't come before she was finished...he rode out her climax, then reached between them, his thumb circling her clit as he drove her to another climax, and then he came, growling as he did so.

When he was finished, he stayed inside her, his weight resting on his elbows as he watched her recover. He kissed her again, but this time it was softer, a lingering kiss. Hermione stroked his back, relishing the way she made him shudder, and then felt him growing hard again. "Oh, I'm far from done with you," he said.

He took her again, this time slowly.

Hermione was surprised when he grabbed her by the shoulders and rolled onto his back; his hands moved down to her hips and he pulled her against him, urging her to ride him as he arched his hips up into her body. They both came again after a time, and Hermione collapsed on top of him as she caught her breath.

He stroked her hair as he lay under her, then shifted his weight and turned them to lie on their sides. They lay like that for some time, hands trailing over each other's bodies. Hermione wondered why he hadn't pulled out his various implements but didn't want to ask. It was good just to lay with him for a change.

Though she still had many questions, and some concerns, she felt like things could go better between them. It seemed such a small thing, and she didn't think it was right that she felt a touch of guilt over demanding something that, technically, did go against what she had originally agreed to, but she knew she wouldn't be able to live like that for ever.

Severus propped himself up on one elbow. "Shall we move to the bath?" he asked. "I've missed bathing you...having you wash me."

"Yes...I'd like that," she answered.

*****

A silence settled between them later as they sat in the tub together, a tension of still unanswered questions. Hermione didn't want to break the silence, though...it was peaceful, restful. She had washed him, rubbing his body with the soapy cloth even though they'd both showered several hours previously, it was relaxing. Then he had taken the cloth from her, thoroughly washing her body.

Now they sat together, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned back against his chest. One of his hands trailed down between her legs. "You will shave again," he said. Hermione caught a slight note of what may have been a question in his voice.

"Yes," she said, agreeing or answering his query, whichever it was.

"Good," he said.

When they returned to the bed later, Hermione settled against him as he wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close. The tense silence was there again. Something had changed between them, and she wasn't quite sure what it was, or what it would mean for the future. But, at least she felt she had won on one point.